Thankful For
by Vinnies-Angel
Summary: Slash. One shot. Please Review. Charlie and Adam have been together almost a year; they've told no one of their life together thanks to the riggers of Eden Hall dorm living. Deciding to come out to their families over Thanksgiving break proves they probably should've waited until after high school.


I haven't written in years so please be kind. Hopefully this is the first new story of many as my inspiration that has long been missing to write in this category seems to have re-sparked itself.

This is story is rated Teen for the male/male relationship. If homosexual story lines are not your thing, be forewarned now.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and I make nothing from writing Mighty Ducks fan fiction. It simply tickles my fancy to write about two gorgeous guys who just so happened to star together in the most amazing movie ever. The characters and Mighty Ducks belong to Disney; I've carefully placed the few who appear here back where I found them.

...

He exhaled sharp and his breath blew out, hot and clammy, turning to smoke against the cold night sky. It was late November, all brittle air and holiday season, that left the two of them practically alone on campus. Nestled as they were on the roof of their dorm building, they stared up at the nighttime sky; stars lit as though a ceiling above them, bright enough to see the winding paths on the school grounds below. They sat on a blanket, another wrapped around them, and huddled close together for warmth.

His mitten covered hands held a thermos, once filled to the brim with hot tea, and close to his tucked legs was a small box of mini powdered donuts: Charlie's favorite. The legs around him squeezed every sixth heartbeat and he knew without looking back that the other's eyes were watching him.

His nose crinkled up in thought after he pulled the thermos from his mouth, his eyes, at least, glued to the ceiling above them. With his head upturned he searched the stars, seeking out constellations he knew. It was partly the smugness settling into him but he refused to turn his eyes to the blue ones heating his skin.

"The stars are up there, Charlie," he drawled, closing his mitten covered fingers and leaving one to point above them, one side of his mouth pulled up in a smile.

"Not as breathtaking as you," he whispered back softly. His legs squeezed around the other boy again before his head fell back to his shoulder that was scrunched up by his ear, his arms stretched behind him to support his weight.

His cheeks flushed pink and he turned his head away. "Such a romantic," he grumbled. Charlie laughed. He shifted his weight, tucking his hip underneath himself and rolling onto his side between Charlie's legs. He leaned back, the side of his rib cage nestling into the V of Charlie's body.

Charlie straightened his tailbone and brought his arms out in front of him to wrap around the blonde. The head nuzzled closer on his chest and he involuntarily smiled. "I don't think I'm going to want to head inside tonight..."

"Mmm, me either." He softly moaned, one hand cuddled up by his face. "I like you keeping me warm."

Charlie's soft laugh moved his belly and his boyfriend's body bounced along with it. They were both quiet for a while, relishing in the close feel of one another.

Just as Charlie was sure his love had dozed off, he softly heard his voice. "Anything planned for Thanksgiving?"

He sighed, "just a family dinner. I think Bombay might stop by, if he's in town. You?"

The blonde shifted, stretching his arms out from his body and rolling onto his back, still between Charlie's legs. He tilted his head back and smiled up at his boyfriend. "Nothing too fun. I think my cousins are coming in from Colorado." His face fell a little, a pensive state overtaking his features. "I'm thinking I might tell them."

Charlie inhaled sharply and coughed as the cold air invaded his lungs. He barely managed to keep his cool, looking down into the eyes he so loved. "Are you sure, Adam?"

His smile brightened and his eyes sparkled in the starlight. That was all the assurance Charlie needed.

...

Charlie grabbed the wet dish from his mother with the towel in his hands. Quickly drying it, he placed it on top of the ever growing pile next to him. "How many different types of dishes do we need, Mom? It's just Coach." He said, a wry smile on his face.

Casey blushed and shoed her son away after he dried the last dish. "Oh nonsense you," she smiled at him. "Go put on some clothes, you've been in those pajamas all morning."

"Yeah, cause its only us and Coach!" He laughed. Even so, he walked out of the kitchen and half-skipped to his bedroom.

Once there he shuffled his way to the closet, swinging the door open to find something decent to wear. He was almost certain that if he walked out in jeans and a tee his mother would have a real fit. He pulled a polo off one of the hangers and moved to the weekend bag he'd yet to unpack. Taking the plastic bag of dirty laundry off the top and tossing it behind him, he dug down the side, knowing he packed a pair of Adam's khakis. Pulling them free, he tossed them on the bed and proceeded to change.

Charlie's head popped out the shirt hole just in time to hear his mother holler for him. The doorbell rang a second later and he sprinted out of his room. Swinging the front door open, he smiled a mile wide, "Coach!"

"Heya, Charlie," Gordon barely got out before Charlie pounced on him. He stumbled a few steps backward, one arm reaching towards the wall to steady them both and the other wrapping tight around Charlie.

"I missed you, Coach." He breathed into his neck. He squeezed one more time before pulling back. Keeping a hand on Bombay's shoulder, they walked the few short steps into the apartment.

"Mom!" Charlie hollered, shutting the door behind them. "Coach is here!"

Casey walked out of her room holding a hand over her ear. "Goodness, Charlie, must you blow the whole place down?" She laughed. Her eyes turned to her old friend as she moved toward him. "Hello, Gordon." She said as he pulled her to him in a hug.

"Hi, Casey," he smiled softly, exhaling into her neck. "How've you been?" He asked, breathing in the scent of her hair.

She pulled back, lingering for a moment before stepping away. "Good," she smiled, "we've been good. Charlie here's almost halfway through Junior year and I'm still working at the diner." Gordon and Charlie followed her into the kitchen as she spoke.

"That's great." He smiled, noting the pride in her voice.

"And you?" She asked, passing the dishes on the counter to Charlie. Charlie exaggeratedly rolled his eyes, his head following the movement, but proceeded to walk with them to the kitchen table.

Gordon chuckled at the exchange and Charlie scowled. "I've been good as well. I-uh, I just got a job at a law firm in Chicago, repaying my dues at this point. I've been doing some peewee coaching for a co-worker's team whenever he's busy."

"Yeah?" Charlie asked, looking up from the place setting he was arranging. "Aiming for another story like the Ducks?" He smirked.

"Nah," Gordon laughed, moving to help set the remaining plates. "The Ducks are a once in a lifetime thing; I couldn't replicate you guys even if I tried!"

Charlie laughed, placing the last fork on the table.

"Hope you boys are hungry!" Casey called, carefully pulling the small turkey from the oven. Charlie grabbed the pot holders around the handles once she was close to him, taking the turkey from her and placing it in the center of the table. "Gordon," she called softly, "would you mind doing the carving?" She smiled, holding a knife out, handle side towards him.

"I'd love to." Charlie smiled at Bombay's response, taking the moment to grab the pot of yams off the stove.

Dinner progressed smoothly; talk about Bombay's new job and Casey's day-to-day at the diner was a lot more relaxing to Charlie than he thought it would be. It was nice, sitting there between his mother and the only person he ever considered calling Dad. He piped up whenever he was asked a question but otherwise stayed silent, enjoying the banter the two had going.

His mind was wrapped around what Adam had said a few nights prior, curled up together on the roof of their dorm. He loved moments like those with the other boy. It was miraculous they ever found them but when they did, it was like nothing else. Charlie felt like he lived, sometimes, simply for the time he'd get to spend with Adam. They had discussed telling people - their families - multiple times before but they always came to the same conclusion: it was too soon.

Charlie already knew this was where'd he be for the rest of his life, so, too soon?... But maybe that's where the "too soon" bit came in; it was simply too soon to tell. For once in his, and Adam's, life, he had something that was only theirs: a person he could connect with on every level. On the ice, he and Adam were able to communicate with just their eyes; in stollen moments, they were able to talk about anything that came to mind; and in those rare, _rare,_ flashes of _sweat slicked skin_, they were able to talk without any of that. Charlie knew that telling their families was only the first step. The Ducks would follow suit and then, the world. And then, Charlie wouldn't have Adam to himself anymore.

The look in Adam's eyes had been different this time, though. Something in the way his eyes sparkled in the moonlight tipped Charlie off to knowing that, this time, wasn't like all the rest. Adam wasn't going to take a day thinking it over and then tell him he changed his mind. Adam had thought this one through, probably rationalized the situation a thousand times over, before coming to this conclusion. Charlie knew that this time he'd go through with it.

His own conclusion caught him by surprise and he choked on the bite of stuffing in his mouth. He grasped a hand out for his water while his mom pounded on his back, her voice rising on deaf ears, asking if he was okay.

Adam was going to go through with it.

He looked up at his mom like a deer caught in headlights. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung agape, his breathing a staccato huff in the quiet space.

...

"Adam! Can you come help me quickly?" He heard his mother call. Slumped as he was on the couch in the den, the last thing he wanted to do was move. He sighed, hitting the pause button on his video game controller. He leveraged his arms on the sunken couch and pushed himself up.

"I can take your place, bro." Matt, his older brother, said, taking the remote from Adam and falling into his vacated seat. Adam had been playing video games against his cousin, Cody, since his relatives arrived earlier that morning. He'd been losing, but he chalked that up to video games not being his forte... Even if it was a hockey game.

"Adam!" His mom hollered again, and as he walked out of the room toward the kitchen he shouted back, "I'm coming!"

"What's up?" He said after walking in, leaning his elbows on the island in the center of the room. His mother bustled about, grabbing last minute spice additions for their meal.

Madeline Banks turned to her son, a smile creasing her warm eyes. "Can you grab the turkey plate for me?" She gestured to the cabinets at her left; there sat the carving plate for the turkey, nestled above the shelving doors, almost against the ceiling.

Reaching tall on his tip-toes he grabbed the edge of the plate and pulled it down from the top of the cabinets. He took hold of it with both hands and without being asked, he walked to the sink to clean it. He rinsed the plate under water before he grabbed the soapy sponge, turning to give his mother a smile.

She opened the can of cranberry sauce and slowly placed it in the serving dish in front of her. "I haven't had the chance to ask you, Adam, how has school been going this semester?"

Her back was towards him but she bounced along slightly to the music she had playing from the old radio in the corner of the room. She often said that the music was the special ingredient in her cooking. "It's been going good," Adam answered. He finished washing the dish and turned off the water. He grabbed the towel next to him and began to dry it. "Coach Wilson has been kicking our as-butts in practice but we've been winning pretty well."

"Well, that's nice." She replied, taking the cranberry sauce and bringing it to the dining room where most of the food already sat.

Adam sighed, his mother was so easily distracted when preparing a meal that it was often hard to hold a conversation with her in the kitchen. He placed the carving board on the island and leaned against the cabinets next to the sink, his hands holding onto the counter top edge behind him. For the millionth time, it felt, he questioned his resolve to tell her. He wasn't sure what she'd say but he knew he couldn't keep lying. He and Charlie had a _history_; they had a story he wished he could stand on the rooftops and shout, and he wanted his family to know he was in love.

When his mother walked back into the room, drying her hands on the lower portion of her apron, he softly called out to her. "Mom, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Of course, sweetie," she replied. She moved towards the stove anyway, reaching for the pot of noodles.

He put his hand on her outstretched arm and she looked up into his eyes. "No, Mom," she frowned at his solemn tone, "I need your attention when I say this."

She nodded at him carefully, dropping her hand back to her side. She watched him fiddle his fingers, locking them together and breaking them apart again, his eyes cast downward to their feet. "Adam?" She asked, placing her hand on his elbow. His eyes snapped up to hers as she spoke again. "Whatever it is, sweetie, you know I love you."

He nodded and swallowed hard around his suddenly dry throat. "Mom," he croaked, "I'm gay."

...

As soon as Charlie had overcome his coughing fit, Casey pressed an ice pack into his hand and ordered him to go lay down. She'd stared at him sternly before he walked away to do as told. He wound up settling himself on the couch in the living room, listening carefully to his mother and coach as they finished their meals. They ate in an eerie silence after he left the room; the only time Charlie heard voices had been with the accompaniment of running water.

Casey had made sure to finish her meal quickly, concerned over Charlie's sudden cough and feverish looking eyes. She made her way out of the kitchen once the dishes were cleaned and sat down next to him on the edge of the couch. "Are you okay, Charlie?" She asked. She swiped her hand under the ice pack to feel his forehead.

He sighed and swatted her hand away, repositioning the ice pack. "Yes, Mom. I don't know what came over me." Charlie lied, his cheeks flushed from fibbing.

She smiled softly at him and patted him on the shoulder. "As long as you're sure." She said. She waited for his nod before getting up and heading back into the kitchen to prepare their dessert.

Charlie relaxed into the couch cushions once she left. He felt bad not saying anything, by accepting the ice pack and walking away from the heat of the situation; like he was _letting Adam down_. He wanted to tell her, and he would, but he wasn't so sure he wanted to ruin his mother's appreciation of the holiday. It would definitely _not_ be a moment soon forgotten, her only child coming out to her over their Thanksgiving dinner...

The couch slowly sank beside him again and Charlie opened his eyes. He looked towards his feet where the weight had pressed and startled a bit, seeing Bombay instead of who he'd been certain was his mother.

They stared at each other for a few minutes before Bombay broke the silence with a sigh, "Charlie..."

"Coach," he replied, harsher then he'd intended. His chin was slightly upturned and defiance radiated in his eyes.

Gordon leaned forward and rested his hand on Charlie's shin next to him. "Something going on, Charlie?" He asked apprehensively.

He scoffed, turning his head away from his old mentor. He stared off into the space next to him, waiting for Bombay to tire himself out.

"I really can sit here all day waiting for you to talk," he sighed and sat up straight once more. "I don't think you had a bad bite of food or suddenly got sick. There's something on your mind. I'm here for you to talk." He said.

They sat in silence for such long, stretching minutes, that it left Gordon feeling like time had stopped. A sudden idea occurred to him and he was hopeful it would jar Charlie into talking; he watched Charlie's face carefully for a reaction as he asked, "does it have to do with the Ducks?"

Charlie's eyes lit, the corners twitching a bit, and he tried desperately not to let anything show. He couldn't afford to have Bombay catch on, he needed to be man enough to actually say it on his own.

Realizing that, he sighed; he slowly clenched his abs and pressed down on the couch with his elbow, rolling one vertebrae at a time until he was sitting. With his other hand he removed the ice pack as he rose, now holding it gently in his lap. He listened for his mother's humming, and the soft trill of the microwave spinning their dessert. He looked to Bombay, connecting his eyes with the only "Dad" he'd ever had.

"Coach," he croaked. "I don't-I don't know how you're going to take this but, here goes..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He clenched his fist around the tendrils, briefly looking down before up again. Gordon smartly stayed quiet.

"For the past year or so, I've been, um, hmm... Growing up, that's for sure." Gordon smiled wryly at Charlie's tone of voice, ready to interrupt with a quick joke about Charlie losing his virginity. Seeing Bombay's mouth open to retort, Charlie quickly continued. "There's been a lot I've been experiencing that I think-no, that I know, that not a lot of others go through."

Perplexed with the change in Charlie's train of thought, Gordon leaned back slightly. His followed along in silence, listening intently to every word. He picked his hand up from Charlie's shin and crossed his arms in front of his chest, lifting one hand to sit below his chin.

"I've always kind of felt like I was different. I mean, Portman and Luis hanging off the girls when we were out in California, Guy and Connie kissing at that camp, even Russ and Ken trying to pick up girls back here on campus... I just, something always felt off, you know?" His face was a question as he occasionally connected his eyes with Bombay's. When he wasn't looking at him, he was staring down at the ice pack melting in his hands, his fingers playing with the plastic edges.

"And I forced myself to look at what was out there, too. I mean, I flirted, and I even tried to hold a steady girlfriend but, hmm, every time it came to something... intimate... even just kissing, I don't know, I kind of shied away; it just always felt so wrong." He sighed, unnerved that he really was about to tell. "U-U-Until about a year ago, when everything just sort of fell into place...

"I was heading to the cafeteria to grab dinner when I ran into Banksie, who had just left there, and we started talking. And it was like," he looked up, suddenly feeling animated about this story. He stared into Bombay's eyes, trying to let his own convey the emotions he had felt, "one minute I was standing there starving, and the next, food was the last thing on my mind. It was like everything just suddenly clicked." He snapped his fingers for emphasis before he shyly looked away from Bombay's confused face. His voice was soft as he spoke again, "um, Adam's been my boyfriend for almost a year now."

...

"Gay?" Madeline repeated. She stared up at her son as if he'd grown two more heads while standing there in front of her.

"Gay." He said again. His voice was soft, almost apologetic, but it was clear he meant the word.

She huffed out her breath, stumbling back the two steps to lean against the island. She let her back fall against the cold granite, her elbows on the counter to support her weight. She looked at her son with that same odd expression. "How long-"

"Have I known?" He finished. She nodded, keeping silent in front of him. "I guess, on some level, I've kind of always known." He shrugged. "Does that make sense?"

"I don't-I don't _know_, Adam. I don't exactly have _experience_ in this department." Her voice rose slightly but when Adam flinched at her defensive tone she corrected herself. "I'm sorry." She said, soft once more. "It's just a bit of a shock, son. I'm sure you can understand."

"I do," he was quick to reassure her. "I just," he looked into her eyes, his own attesting to the sadness that was overwhelming him, "I didn't want to lie to you anymore."

Her expression fell with that statement, the sharp edges that had been in her eyes and the perplexed look she'd held her son in disappeared completely from her face. "Oh, son," she sighed. She reached towards him, her arms winding around his neck and his entangling themselves around her waist.

He buried his face into her neck, deeply breathing in the scent of her hair. "Does this-" his voice caught on the words, "does this mean you're okay with it?"

Madeline still held her son, squeezing him tighter as she spoke. "I don't know." She felt him softly shaking as he tried to move away. "I do know that I still love you." She pulled back from him slightly, cupping his face in her hands. "You're my son, Adam. You're my baby boy. Your sexuality doesn't change that."

He sniffed hard, tears filling his eyes at his mother's words. He leaned into her and buried his face again, letting a wet shaky breath blow out over her skin. "Thank you, Mom."

She squeezed him once more before gently extricating herself from his embrace. She smiled before moving around him to continue plating their dinner. He stayed to help, grabbing the strainer out of the bottom draw near the stove and holding it over the sink. Her eyes twinkled at him as she poured the hot pasta and water into the strainer. "So, Adam," she said, an amused tone carrying her voice, "is there anyone you have your eye on?"

He blushed under her stare, shaking the strainer to rid the pasta of any remaining water. He startled when he heard a new voice in the room and the strainer slipped from his fingers, clattering into the sink. "Shit!" He cursed in a hushed whisper, quickly grabbing the handles to save whatever pasta he could. "Sorry, Mom." He said softly, giving her an apologetic look.

"I said, my youngest boy is dating?" Phillip Banks called in a boisterous tone from the kitchen doorway. His smile was a mile wide as he walked into the room, joining the two in conversation.

"Phillip!" Madeline called, walking to her husband and leaning up to give him a soft kiss on the lips, "Adam and I were just having a nice conversation." She smiled, turning back to look at their son with a mildly pointed look.

Adam smiled nervously at his father and mother, unsure what the petite woman was trying to signal. "Yeah, just trying to help mom prepare the rest of dinner." He said, tilting the strainer towards his father for show. His mother opened one of the cabinets next to the sink and took out a large bowl, placing it in front of him to use. He poured the pasta in and pushed the dish away from the counter's edge before dropping the strainer back into the sink.

"Good!" He cheered, "good man!" He walked closer, patting his son on the back as he reached around him into his 'hidden' stash of chocolate bars.

Madeline mumbled to herself as she moved back to the stovetop, "after I've slaved away over this meal..."

"What was that, sweetheart?" Phillip asked with a smile, wholly knowing why his wife was grumbling. He winked at Adam as he turned away; opening the candy bar and taking a bite, he walked into the attached dining room. "This spread looks delicious! Is dinner almost finished then?" He hollered.

"It will be as soon as you finish that candy bar!" Madeline called back in a pleasant tone. She leaned in towards her son who was angled in towards her as well. In hushed whispers they spoke, both urgent and over top each other. "You should tell your father. Don't put it off."

"Dad won't understand; you're lucky I was able to tell you! I've tried so many times... I'm not ready to be kicked out!"

"Oh, hush. Your father won't kick you out. Now, tell him!" She pulled back, stirring the pot of stuffing on the stove. She looked pointedly at her son to drive her point home.

Phillip walked back into the room, "Jesus, Madeline, what'd the boy do now?" He laughed, seeing how she was looking at him.

Adam gulped, tearing his eyes away from his mother. "Um, Dad?" She was right, he shouldn't put off telling him. "Can I talk to you a minute?"

"Sure," he smiled and walked back into the dining room, waiting for his son to follow.

Adam did, walking to his usual chair to the left of his father's, which was at the head of the table. He sat down, one elbow resting on the table and the hand of the other arm beginning to draw circles on the cloth. His dad sat down as well, tall, with both palms resting flat on the surface before him. His mom walked quickly into the room; she winked at Adam as she grabbed the carving knife that had been placed in front of her husband off the table before hurriedly moving with it back into the kitchen.

Phillip stared after his wife, utter confusion written across his face. "That woman gets stranger each and every day..." He grumbled, turning his amused look to Adam when he laughed.

Adam shook his head, a smile on his face, as he looked down at the table. He knew his mother had done that just for him, her way of helping to ease the tension he felt building in his chest. He smiled at his dad, "she just wanted to make sure you didn't have a weapon to kill me with." He clasped his hands together on the table, leaning his weight onto his arms. His jovial expression fell and his eyes turned to stare fixedly at the tablecloth.

"This is probably going to be a bit of a shock to you, Dad, but," he weighed his words, unsure how exactly he wanted to tell his father. Finally, he settled on an approach, rehashing the conversation they'd grazed in the kitchen. "I have started dating." He said, smiling shyly to himself.

Phillip grinned, a wide set smile that reached his eyes. "Congratulations, son! What's this catch of yours like?"

Adam sighed and squeezed his eyes closed. He let thoughts of Charlie overwhelm him. When he opened his eyes again he could practically see the other boy sitting in the chair across from him, and he set about his description. "Well," he swallowed, "he has blue eyes, short, soft, curly, brown hair... um, rough calloused hands, a strong demeanor, and quite possibly the biggest heart." He stumbled through his description.

Phillip stared at his son in disbelief. "'_He_'?" He questioned. His eyes conveyed his fear and his voice shook on the word.

Adam nodded, "'_He_,' Dad."

Adam watched his father squeeze his eyes shut and tilt head towards the table, shaking back and forth. He was mumbling something under his breath, too low for Adam to hear, but the mantra slowly gained in strength. Suddenly, his father's head snapped up and his voice cut off, his lips only moving in a silent speech, and his eyes glowered at Adam.

Quickly, he begged, "Dad, I'm still me. Yes, I have a boyfriend, I like guys, but that's only just one part of me. You know who I am, inside and out, I just didn't want to lie to you anymore." He reached a hand out and grabbed his father's on the table.

That was his mistake.

Phillip's eyes lit in a sickening light, looking down at Adam's hand clutching his own. He grabbed his son's hand and flipped his wrist, pressing the ball of Adam's wrist into the table until he had to stand and bend to release the pressure.

Adam's eyes filled with tears and he let out a scream, twisting his body to try to relieve the ache that forming in his wrist. "Dad!"

"Phillip!"

"_Dad!_"

...

Gordon stared in disbelief as Charlie finished his story. The first thought through his mind was that this had to be some sick, cruel joke that he was trying to play him with. But staring into the eyes of the teen and seeing the heartache there, the longing need for acceptance, Gordon relented. "You, an-and Adam?" He asked.

Charlie nodded his head, his eyes dropping back to his legs on the sofa. "It's not like I intended my life to be this way. It's just, sort of," he shrugged, "how it turned out." He looked up again, locking his eyes with Bombay's. "I wouldn't trade this though, for anything. Adam's like my lifeline."

Gordon smiled, hearing such sincerity in Charlie's voice. "I can only hope he feels as strongly for you as you do him, Charlie. Come here," he said, extending his arms towards the boy that, for as long as he'd known him, he'd thought of as his son.

Charlie's smile stretched from ear to ear and he scooted closer to his old coach. He flung his arms around the man, squeezing his face into the crevice between Gordon's head and shoulder. "You don't know how much that means to me." He said on a shaky breath.

"Just be good, Charlie. Be happy." He softly said.

"Well, what's with all this?" Casey asked, walking back into the room. There was a smile playing on her lips as she stood in the doorway with both of her hands on her hips.

Charlie slowly pulled away from Bombay, his smile still largely on his face, and turned towards his mother. He patted the space on the couch just behind him and twisted his upper body to lay back against the cushions. She happily walked to the seat and took Charlie's hand in her's as she sat down.

"Mom," he said, his other hand gripping at Bombay's forearm for support. "There's something I want to tell you."

His second time through the speech, he only stumbled once. He watched his mother's face the whole time, waiting for her reaction. He received it, right at the end, in the form of a smile that lit up her eyes.

"You've been seeing him for a year?" She questioned, her voice coated with tears. She blinked them back, staring at her son in awe. He'd gone and grown up on her.

"Just shy of," he said, unable to contain the smile that was on his face. He twisted his legs around, tackling his mother's small frame with his own, and wrapped his arms tight around her. "I'm happy, Mom." He said, squeezing her.

"Good!" She said firmly. "That's all I want."

He chuckled to himself as he pulled away from her and rested back against the couch. "And here I thought I'd be ruining the day if I said something!" He said with a foolish smile. He couldn't help the thrill of happiness that was running through his veins. He'd told her and, best of all, she didn't care. His smile brightened as he looked at his mom and to his coach, a euphoric feeling overwhelming his heart.

"We love you, Charlie," Bombay said, patting his hand. "Doesn't matter who you love."

Casey smirked, "I'm actually quite fond of Adam." She said. "You could stand to learn a few manners from him, Charlie." She laughed at Charlie's scowl. "Come on, you two." She patted at the couch, "dessert is ready."

...

"Dad, _stop_!" Adam yelled through tears. His mom and brother were at his father's hand, both prying at his fingers to let go. He stared into his father's cold eyes, his breath coming out in sobs as the pain in his wrist intensified.

Suddenly he was wrenched free. Off balance and unaware, Adam fell to the floor, scooting back against the wall. He tucked his knees up to his chest and his legs splayed open slightly; he cradled his wrist to his chest with the other arm, his eyes staring down at the mangled body part. He heard shouting above him but couldn't bother with deciphering, he only stared as he tried to control his sobbing.

His brother dropped down on his knees in front of him and he slowly lifted his head, tears still streaming from his eyes.

"Let me see your wrist, Adam."

Biting at his lower lip to stem his fast breathing, he slid his right arm between his legs toward his brother.

Matt took Adam's wrist carefully and stared down at his own fingertips as he ran them over the bruising and swelling that already forming. "This doesn't look good, bro." He sighed. "Come on, I'm taking you to the emergency room."

Adam nodded numbly, using his brother's proffered hand to pull himself upright. He kept his right wrist close, palm up towards his eyes, as they walked away from their screaming parents. They stopped at the front door to grab jackets and he noticed his aunt peaking her head out of one of the doorways nearby. Adam ignored her as he opened the front door, his jacket half on, while Matt said a few quick words to quell her fears. He slid into the passenger seat of his brother's unlocked car; he half-wrapped the seatbelt around himself and waited for Matt to help click it in place. Once he did, they were on the road.

The silence in the car was deafening to Adam. He could still hear his parents yelling, though the words were no clearer than before, and he could see the rage just before it peaked in his father's eyes and he'd done the unthinkable: hurt his son.

He noticed the tiny sideways glances his brother kept sending him in his peripheral vision and Adam sighed deeply. He didn't look over as he spoke, his eyes staring at the snowy road in front of them. "I'm gay, Matt."

They were quiet the rest drive. Once there, Matt unbuckled himself before helping Adam do the same. He kept his seatbelt in his hand though, waiting for his brother to turn towards him.

Adam did, his eyes belaying his fear. He felt fragile and scared, like at any minute the rest of his world would come crashing down. He knew he shouldn't have told.

"I don't care," was all Matt said. He let the seatbelt go and turned away from Adam's stunned face before getting out of the car. He walked around it and opened the passenger door, helping Adam stand. He hadn't expected, but welcomed, his little brother's left arm flying around him and holding onto him tight. "Lets get you x-rayed." He mumbled into Adam's shoulder.

...

The laughter in the kitchen was contagious as they sat eating their desserts and talking. The table was littered with microwave-warmed cinnamon rolls, peach cobbler, and vanilla ice cream that was slowly melting. Charlie's smile never once dimmed after he told his mother, her acceptance towards his lifestyle choice making him happier than he ever thought possible. Bombay's welcoming nature also left no room for concern and he was certain that things were going as well for Adam as they'd gone for him.

"And so, there's Dwayne, _barefoot_, chasing this chicken on the ice while the poor thing's just trying to get out of there!" Charlie animatedly continued the story he'd been telling. Bombay had tears pouring from his eyes and Casey was bent over the table laughing. They'd been talking about the hockey season and the prank wars that occasionally broke out. The current freshman were good, Charlie could not deny, but the Ducks had managed to get them back with glue, feathers, and a pressurized fan.

Casey laughed still as she stood from the table, walking towards the phone that had begun to ring. Charlie drawled on in the background as she answered. "Hello, Conway residence."

"Hi," a tentative voice came over the line. "Is Charlie there?"

Casey smiled. "Why, yes he is; let me grab him for you." She covered the mouthpiece with her hand. "Charlie," she called in a teasing tone, "phone."

He beamed at Bombay before pushing away from the table, knowing there'd only be one person calling him. He grabbed the phone from his mother, blushing at her look. "Hello?" He asked, turning away from their prying eyes.

"Charlie? This is Matt, Adam's older brother. Listen, things didn't go so well when my brother told us about you guys..."

Charlie let out a slow, shaky breath. His heart sank with sadness as he automatically brought his free hand up to run through his curls. He pressed the receiver tight against his ear and in a broken voice he asked, "what happened?"

Matt sighed through the line, "my Dad, he, he didn't take it too well. He, sort of, snapped." He mumbled. "Charlie, Adam's in the hospital. I brought him in and he asked me to call you. It's nothing too serious - his, his wrist - but he'll be here for a little while. Um, do you want to come here, or I can bring him to you after? He just told me to get you..."

"I'll be there as soon as I can." Charlie breathed out. As he moved to hang up the phone he heard Matt's voice again.

"Come into the ER; I'll be in the waiting room."

"Thanks," Charlie breathed. "And, Matt?" He quickly called. He waited for the mumbled "yeah" before he spoke again. "Take care of him for me until I get there."

"Will do."

Charlie hung up the phone, the hand in his hair swiping down over his face to help collect himself. He hadn't noticed the silence in the room until he turned around to face his mom and coach. They both stared at him with concern in their eyes, the jovial mood that had been was now completely gone.

He barely felt his hands and legs shaking as he stumbled his way towards the table. Halfway there, Gordon caught him before he'd have fallen to the floor. "No, no, no," he huffed, pushing at the arms holding him. He wrenched himself out of the grip, standing unbalanced on both of his feet. He swallowed hard and looked up at the two. "Adam's in the hospital. His dad did something to his wrist; Matt didn't say what." He looked up into his mother's eyes, his own glaring with desperation. "I need to go."

Casey's eyes watered for her son and for Adam, concern gripping at her heart. "Go get your shoes and coat," she ordered. "We'll all go."

Gordon nodded along, walking out of the kitchen behind Charlie. He hunched over at the front door with the younger man, both pulling on their shoes. As he stood he put his hand on Charlie's shoulder, holding him in place before he could reach for his jacket. "It's going to be okay." Charlie looked away from Bombay's eyes, unconvinced; Gordon squeezed his shoulder again and waited for Charlie to look back. "It's going to be okay," he repeated.

Charlie gulped and nodded brokenly. He grabbed his jacket off the coat rack and opened the door, Bombay and his mom following suit.

The car ride was short and, oh, so bittersweet. He jumped out before Bombay had even put the car in park, not waiting to see if they followed. Sprinting through the lot he only knew one thing, he needed to get to Adam.

He ran through the automatic sliding doors and into the large white corridor. Turning both to his left, and right, he spotted the small sign labeled "waiting room" down the long hallway in front of him. He walked briskly to it, not wanting to draw too much attention. Once there, he stopped in the doorway and looked around for Matt.

He'd only met Adam's older brother twice and so long ago that he was afraid he wouldn't be able to recognize him. But, there, in the furthest corner of the room, sat a guy that resembled his Adam. Matt was hunched over with both hands clutching at a magazine he was pretending to read and Charlie could clearly see how much he was shaking. He walked across the room and stood in front of him.

"How is he?" He asked.

Matt sighed and looked up at Charlie. He dropped the magazine onto the small end table next to him before he stood, the top of his head even with Charlie's nose. He shrugged, "no word yet. I haven't even seen any doctors walk by.

"Listen," Matt started, making an awkward reach for Charlie's hand. He stopped halfway and quickly retracted his own. He took note of the nervous expression on Charlie's face and how he would no longer meet his eyes and Matt made sure he picked his next words carefully. "I don't care about Adam's sexual preference. He's my brother and I'm going to love him anyway. What I do care about," he stopped and waited for Charlie's eyes to meet his, "is that he's treated how he deserves."

Charlie smiled, off guard and small, but nevertheless, he still smiled. He nodded to Matt's words, waiting for him to finish.

"I can tell you love him," he said. "Now, just make sure you treat him right or you will have me to deal with." He smiled.

Awkwardly laughing at that, Charlie reached out towards Matt. He shook his hand, a wide grin on his face, "understood." He clapped Matt on the elbow with his other hand before dropping both arms back to his sides.

He turned towards the door, having heard the rustling of his mother's coat and he waved her and Bombay over, still smiling. "Matt, this is my mom, Casey, and Adam and my old hockey coach, Gordon Bombay. Mom, Coach, this is Matt, Adam's older brother."

"It's nice to meet you, Matt," Casey said, shaking his outstretched hand before he shook Gordon's. "Charlie, I stopped a nurse on our way in, she's going to send the doctor in to us."

"Thanks, mom," Charlie said, his statement echoed by Matt.

Barely a minute later a doctor walked through the door and made his way over to their corner. Brown hair neatly flopped on his head while he walked, and, once was close, Charlie could smell fresh detergent on his white coat. "You're here for Adam Banks?" He questioned, gesturing to the seats around them.

"Yes," Gordon spoke as they sat down.

"Alright," the doctor sighed. He pulled the chair next to Charlie off the wall and spun it around, straddling the seat. "First, let me introduce myself, I'm Doctor Isaac." He said, reaching out to shake each of their hands.

Bombay spoke up again, "I'm Gordon, Adam's old hockey coach; this is Casey," he pointed at each person, "Matt, Adam's older brother, and Charlie, Casey's son and Adam's boyfriend."

"Okay," the doctor replied, taken aback by the last introduction. As quickly as the shock had appeared though, it was gone. "Regarding Adam, I have good and bad news." He continued. "He is okay, as far as normal health is concerned. A little frazzled but that's to be expected with any type of injury that requires the hospital. His wrist is not broken, by some miracle, but there are a few inoperable ligaments that are torn. They are going to take some time to heal. There's a good amount of bruising and swelling in the area as well, which indicates some tissue damage, but all in all, in a few months time, he should be almost as good as new."

Charlie cleared his throat, "Doctor Isaac, Adam plays hockey, it's his _life_," he stressed, "how long will he have to sit out? Can he play again once everything's healed?" He asked, knowing the questions Adam would most want answered.

Doctor Isaac winked at Charlie with a small smirk on his face, "he mentioned a little bit about hockey." His smile fell thereafter and the doctor sighed, "it's going to take a good bit of time for his wrist to heal completely. The ligaments need time to repair themselves; once they do and the swelling is gone, I don't see why he wouldn't be able play. It might be painful for him though, and his wrist definitely won't be as strong as it was, but as long as he's smart about it, it shouldn't hinder a possible career.

"He's not going to be in a cast but he will be in a removable wrist brace and sling. He needs to wear the wrist brace at all times and the sling must be worn any time he is not laying at ninety degrees. He can only take them both off for showers but even then he is to avoid using that hand. I'll be referring Adam's case to a doctor here for him to have a follow up with in about a month. After that, we can reevaluate and see how long this process is going to take."

The doctor smiled politely at them before he stood and circled the chair back into its place against the wall. "He'll be ready to leave shortly, the IV drip with some painkillers is just about done and I'll be giving him a script to get filled. A nurse should be in soon with his discharge papers."

"Thanks, doc." Matt smiled, simply glad to know the extent of damage his father had done and happy that it wouldn't ruin his brother's life.

The doctor turned to walk out but Charlie stood and called out to him. "Can I go see him?"

He turned back and smiled at Charlie. "Of course, follow me."

...

The curtain that blocked his room from the open area that was the ER shifted and Adam groggily turned his head towards it. The painkillers that were slowly filling him had settled his mind into a dream like state, all peaceful and calm. His eyes bugged slightly, seeing who it was walking into his hospital room. He reached his left hand out blankly, grasping at the air until a firm hand suddenly fit inside his own. He smiled, pulling that hand toward him.

Adam lifted his head off the hard exam table he was laying on once Charlie was close. He rolled to the edge and nuzzled his nose into the spot just above Charlie's belt that was level with his head. "Charlie..." He breathed into his stomach.

He squeezed the hand still holding his and rubbed the back of the other boy's head with his free one. He waited for Adam to make room on the table before he sat down. Adam moved enough for Charlie to lay down next to him before he scooted close and curled against his side, his right arm, still attached at the elbow to the IV, draped over Charlie's stomach. Charlie put a finger under Adam's chin and forced him to half sit up; he stared into sedated eyes, already knowing what to expect. "What happened, Adam?"

He sighed and a painful noise escaped from somewhere in the back of his throat. His blue eyes squinted in sadness and his face contorted in a grimace. "My dad doesn't like that we're together." Adam drawled. His voice was mildly slurred and Charlie had to listen close to understand the words. "Rather, he don' like me being gay. My mom don' like us either but leas' she said she still loves me. My dad," he spat, "twisted my wrist against the table. Ma' and mom had to pry his fingers away to get him to let go."

Charlie stared at him, his eyes half-squinted in concentration, his own heart breaking from the consequences of having come out. "Maybe we shouldn't have told anyone..." He said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"No!" Adam shook his head frantically. His left arm, from where it was caught between them both, clawed at Charlie's side. "I'm glad we told! I wanted to tell! I want us to be together forever, Charlie, and that won't happen 's long as we're secret. _See_?" He emphasized, "we had to tell!"

Charlie smiled at his Adam and made hush noises in the back of his throat to soothe the other boy. "My mom and Bombay took the news really well, Adam. They just want us happy."

Adam stared back at Charlie, a dopey smile gracing his face. "See?" He asked again, the drugs keeping his thoughts hazy, "told you there was nothin' to worry about."

Charlie sighed, knowing Adam's mind wasn't all with it. "You're coming back to my apartment; tomorrow we'll get your stuff from your parents and you'll stay with me the rest of break. Okay?"

Adam's face fell and he tilted his head down, remembering exactly why he should do that. "I love you," he sighed and moved his chin off of Charlie's hand. He nuzzled into Charlie's side. "I just, I love you."

Charlie squeezed his arms around the other boy and tilted his head to kiss Adam's temple. "I love you, too."

"I never even got to have turkey," Adam whined, his voice muffled by Charlie's shoulder.

He laughed, "don't worry, we've got leftovers." He felt Adam smile into his side and squeezed him once more, before settling back to wait out the IV.

...

Adam woke the following morning, drowsy and a little dizzy, to a room he didn't immediately recognize. In the corner of the room, behind the half-open closet door, was a hockey stick and hanging off a hook on the door was a pair of roller skates. He smiled to himself; Charlie's room was messier than his dorm.

He yawned and stretched his arms above his head, feeling the brace crack with his movement. He brought his right arm into his line of sight and twisted it one way and then the other, inspecting it.

"The doctor said you _will_ be able to play hockey again." Adam's head snapped to the doorway. Walking into his bedroom, Charlie shut the door behind him. "I don't know how out of it you were last night, or if you even remember what your injury actually is." He sat down on the bed.

Adam bit his lip and shook his head sheepishly. "Everything after having the IV put in is a little blurry."

Charlie laughed. "I can only imagine." He smiled at his boyfriend and crawled back into the bed, pulling Adam into his arms. "You have three ligaments that are torn. With the wrist brace, and time, they'll heal. You've also got some swelling but no broken bones; the doctor wants you to see someone in about a month to check how it's going."

"And then I can play again?" He asked, voice caught somewhere between hope and sadness.

"And then they can reevaluate how long it'll be until you can play again." Charlie squeezed Adam and kissed the top of his head. "I'm so sorry this happened, Adam."

He tilted his head up, looking back at Charlie. "Don't be; if this is how my dad wants to be, he'd rather me hurt than happy, then whatever. It's his loss. I'm not about to change my life around to suit him. I love you, Charlie, I'd go through hell for you."

Charlie smiled and leaned down, pressing his lips to Adam's. He felt  
Adam smile into the kiss before he pulled away and let their foreheads rest together. "You know I'd go through it, too."

Adam smiled at Charlie before letting his head fall back to the pillow. He stretched again. "So, what's in store for the day? You got any leftovers you can share?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Charlie sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, "you're only here for the food."

Adam laughed and sat up as well. Charlie helped steady him once he was on his feet before they walked out of his room. "Where's your mom?"

"Work. She had an early morning shift at the diner." Charlie said, leading Adam to the kitchen table. He helped him sit before he headed to the fridge to grab the food.

"Early morning after Thanksgiving? That sucks." He said.

"That's what I said." He answered, pulling two plates out of the cabinet. He placed them on the counter before dividing the leftovers between the two.

"What time will she be back?" Adam asked, a playfully innocent look on his face when Charlie looked over his shoulder at him.

He smiled at the food, "not for another few hours..."

...

Casey found them sprawled across the couch, both fast asleep, with the television on. They were cuddled close together, Charlie's head resting softly on Adam's chest and Adam's arm carefully propped up around him. She smiled at the sight and grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch to cover them.

Adam slowly opened his eyes, having heard the floorboards creak near his head. His eyelids flickered and he looked up, straight into Casey's eyes. He was sure he'd spoken to her the night before, or had at least seen the woman, but it was very different knowing how intoxicated he'd been. She now knew about them and had even seen them together - God only knows what had occurred - the night before; and even though Charlie said she'd taken it well, he was terrified.

Casey smiled sympathetically at him, seeing Adam physically try to shrink away from her. "I just didn't want you boys getting cold," she whispered, careful not to wake her son.

"You're not-?" He cut himself off, his throat was dry from sleep and it cracked on the words.

She sat down softly on the coffee table in front of him. "I'm fine, Adam." She smiled politely. "Is this how I would've planned his life? Or yours, for that matter? No. But it's not my choice. I love my son, doesn't matter much to me who he loves as long as they love him in return." She reached forward, running her fingers through Adam's hair once, then twice. "You're good for him."

Adam smiled shyly and thanked her, amazed at how well she'd taken the news; unlike his own parents.

Casey stood, having noticed the dark look filter into Adam's eyes. "I'm just going to go take a nap myself. If you could just let Charlie know and try to keep the noise down?" She asked, walking to the short hallway that led to the bedrooms. She left before Adam could respond.

He shifted his torso and Charlie cuddled tighter, squeezing him in his sleep. Adam stared down at him and was able to see all the reasons why he loved the boy written across Charlie's face. Who could say this was wrong?

His shoulders slumped and he turned his head away. He knew who could. His parents must be thrilled with him out of the house. He'd be surprised if they hadn't already crafted a witch hunt for him. "_Help us turn our gay boy straight again!_" And no doubt they'd have volunteers - the Banks' always did.

Never in his life had he witnessed his father be violent, least of all towards him. He screamed a lot while Adam was growing up, yes, and that alone was a terrifying thing, but he was always kinder than he seemed. As long as Adam had stuck to his guns when it fell in line with his father's beliefs, usually his dad was the one to apologize. The man had a heart, truly, but only when it agreed with his head.

Considering that he was now, seemingly, parentless, Adam ran through a silent list of to-dos. If he wanted to do this, _sincerely do this_, he'd have to file against them to terminate their parental rights. He'd have to find a place to live, a way to pay for that housing, all while playing hockey and attending high school. It seemed impossible...

A tight squeeze around his ribcage broke Adam's thoughts and he tilted his head down. Charlie lay with his eyes still closed, looking as though far away in dreamland. "You're thinking so loudly you're giving _me_ a headache."

He smiled. Using his left hand, he ran his fingers through Charlie's curls, "and just what would you know about thought induced headaches?" He teased.

Charlie lightly slapped Adam's stomach. "I'd watch it, you, or I'm not going to offer to write your class notes."

"I wouldn't be able to read them if you did," Adam laughed and Charlie scowled.

He opened his eyes and carefully pushed himself up, moving to straddle Adam's legs. He stayed mindful of the wrist brace, refusing to cause Adam any further pain. "Why, you!" He huffed. He acted quickly, his fingers attaching themselves to Adam's left side and tickling as best as he could.

Adam giggled and squirmed underneath him, trying his best to slap Charlie's hands away. "Stop!" He called quietly, "your mom's trying to nap!" He said, throwing out excuses to get him to stop.

Charlie laughed evilly. "Nope! Not until you say the magic words!"

Adam laughed harder, only his left arm trying to protect his side. "Charlie, come on! I'm not saying those," he said brokenly. "Your mom's here!"

Finally, Charlie took mercy and stopped his tickling assault. "I guess you're right. Couldn't have you shouting the magic words here." He smirked, winking at Adam.

Adam huffed, trying to slow down his breathing. "Please, babe, I wouldn't whisper those words in an empty field."

Charlie laughed, moving to lay down beside Adam. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at his boyfriend. His smile faded and concern took over. "When do you want to go grab your stuff?"

He sighed and closed his eyes. Inhaling deep, Adam let the breath out long and slow. "The sooner the better."

Charlie nodded, "let me just ask my mom if we can borrow the car and then we'll head out, alright?" He said, pushing himself up off the couch.

"Okay. Can I borrow some clothes?" Adam stood, following Charlie to his bedroom.

"Of course. Grab whatever you want." He smiled before walking into his mom's room.

Adam sighed again and opened the door to Charlie's room. He shut it softly behind him before making his way to the closet. He forced the door open, the pile of clothes in front if it moving with his strength, before he peered inside. Pulling out the first pair of jeans he came across and a hoodie, Adam moved to the dresser to grab a shirt.

He walked over to the bed, slowly stripping the tee he'd been wearing over his head. His movements were slow around his wrist though, thankfully, not painful. Next he pulled his shorts down before beginning to dress in Charlie's clothes. Once he'd put everything on he tucked his head into his shoulder and sniffed. Charlie's scent filled his nostrils, warming him down to his toes, and he smiled.

The door opened without warning and he startled, spinning towards it. Gravity had him pitching towards the floor and natural instinct had his right hand out before he was scooped up into strong arms. Charlie held him, inches from putting his wrist on the ground.

"Are you okay?" He breathed, adrenaline pumping through him. His heart beat rapidly and his breathing was labored.

"Oh my god," Adam panicked. He dropped his knees to the floor and shrunk out of Charlie's arms, "_oh my god_." He sat back on his heels and combed both hands through his hair. "I'm fine, yeah," he stuttered, sounding close to tears. He rocked himself on his knees, trying to center his mind. "You just, you startled me is all."

"I could see that." Charlie said. "You didn't-"

"No," he looked up, fear still prevalent in his eyes. "No, you caught me just before I would have."

"Okay." He breathed, his hand raking down his face. "Good. Okay." He cleared his throat and bent down. Lacing his hands under Adam's arms, he gently coaxed him to stand before moving him to sit on the bed. "Just, stay there while I change quick, okay?" He asked, still quite terrified himself.

"Trust me, I won't move again." Adam said, his voice shaking. He leaned over to Charlie's nightstand and grabbed the blue sling sitting in a ball. He pulled it over his head and carefully affixed it for his wrist, petrified of accidentally using that arm.

Charlie moved about the room, picking clothing to wear from the options that littered his floor. "Will your parents be there?" He asked once he started to change.

Adam rubbed at his forehead with his left hand, both his eyes squinting at his ministrations. "There's a good chance. I don't really know what their plans were. I don't really care."

Charlie nodded, pulling the floor crusted jeans up over his boxers. He buttoned and zipped them before sitting down next to Adam on his bed. He took his left hand in his right, softly tracing the tendons that ran through his fingers down to his wrist. His hand clamped down around the base of Adam's palm. "It's going to be okay."

Adam turned his head away and scoffed, and Charlie realized just how much Adam was fooling himself that he didn't care. "It's going to be okay." He repeated, squeezing his palm again. He waited with baited breath for Adam to have a reaction.

The slightly older boy stayed the same, staring at the wall with his head turned away from Charlie. He cleared his throat and, for the third time, he spoke. "Adam, it's going to be okay."

"Yeah? And you know that from what, experience?" He snapped sarcastically, his voice distant and pained. He turned to face his boyfriend. "You weren't there, Charlie," he bit out, "you didn't see my dad's face. You didn't have to see my mom and brother ripping at his hand to let go of me. You didn't have to hear them all yelling, and have them look at you like you were some type of _alien_." Adam's eyes began to water as he continued through a tight-lipped mouth. "You don't have to know that your own parents," he spat, his jaw quivering, "don't love you enough to overlook who you love. You've got it all, Charlie. How dare you tell me 'it's going to be okay'?"

Charlie took over at Adam's pause as he sucked in a shaky, watered-down breath. "I dare to because I love you. I'm not going to let you beat yourself up over this." He reached his free hand out and grabbed Adam's chin roughly, turning him to look into his eyes. "This is _not_ about you. Your parents _love_ you. They do; you know it and I know it. But they're scared. They're scared of having a son that lives outside of the norm. They're scared _for_ you. They can only react how they know to react, Adam. They don't see it from our point if view!" He said, his voice gradually rising to a shout. He took a deep breath and sighed before leveling his eyes back at Adam's. With a newly calm voice he continued. "I can't promise that it will be today, I can't even tell you it will be tomorrow, or next week, or a year from now, but this will pass. In the meantime," he jerked Adam's chin, and Adam's eyes drifted back towards his, "I'll still be loving you. Nothing's going to change this. You can try to push me away but mark my words, you won't win at that. I love you."

Indignantly, Adam pulled back from Charlie's hand that was still gripping at his chin. He tried his best to suppress the sob he could feel building in his throat but before he knew it, his face was pinched and he flung himself into Charlie's arms. With his head buried in Charlie's neck and his fingers shredding the material coating Charlie's back, he let out a wail.

Partly stunned, never having seen his Adam quite this broken before, Charlie squeezed his arms around his boyfriend. He cradled the back of his head with one hand, the other softly rubbing circles on Adam's back. From the back of his throat came soft hushing noises that never before failed to ease the other boy.

"I'm sorry," he said once his sobs began to slow. He pulled back and rubbed at his eyes with his left hand, trying to catch his tears. He hiccuped. "I know you love me and I know you're going to be here and-"

Charlie cut Adam's babbling short with a kiss. He pressed his lips, slightly chapped and cold, to Adam's that were smooth, warm, and wet. Sucking in a sharp breath through his nose, he plunged his tongue into familiar heat and slowly crawled over Adam. The other fell back to the bed and each followed their part of a routine they knew too well. "Adam," Charlie sighed when he pulled away. He smoothed the back of his knuckles over the other boy's cheek.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, staring up at Charlie with sincerity piercing through his eyes.

"I know." He whispered. Just as slowly as he'd pressed Adam to the bed, Charlie sat upright. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, Adam rising to sit beside him. "Are we ready to go?" He asked.

Solemnly, Adam nodded before standing and walking out the bedroom door.

...

The Banks' house was quite often a sight to behold for Charlie. It stood tall, backed onto a lot with mature trees and green, green grass everywhere. At the end of the driveway sat a garage, the old steel door mildly rusted and warn, with vines running up it from the nearby bushes. Charlie followed Adam through that door, tip-toeing behind him around his father's cars.

Adam sighed, dropping his act of getting in and out with no one knowing. All his father's cars were there, plus Matt's out on the lawn. His aunt and uncle's car was still parked at the far end of the driveway, too, where it was wide enough to fit. They were all home it seemed, ready to witness the inevitable.

Adam turned towards Charlie and ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe I should go in alone." He said cautiously. "I don't want anything to happen to you and I don't really know what he's capable of anymore..."

"You think I'd let you go in there alone?" Charlie pointed at the door. "Like hell I would. I'll be fine, babe, I'm worried about him doing something more to you."

Adam nodded and quickly leaned close to Charlie. He pecked his lips with his own before turning and hurriedly walking towards the door into the house.

He opened it slowly and it creaked softly in the silence. He peered around the door, his neck craning to see if anyone was near and he kept a cautious ear out for any noise. Once he deemed it safe, he slipped inside, feeling Charlie close behind. He left Charlie to shut it as he took a few steps into the quiet house. They tiptoed over to the stairs and, together, softly started to climb them.

No sooner then they reached the half-way point of the stairs, they heard it; a shrill cry through the air that bellowed in someone's chest and had Adam hunching his shoulders in what Charlie could only call fear. "_Adam_!"

He cringed in that position before standing up straight and slowly turning to face the man at the bottom of the stairs. "Hi, Dad."

Charlie had to commend Adam as he, too, turned to face Phillip Banks. Adam's voice sounded firm and strong, but Charlie knew better. He stayed silent, standing two steps down from Adam.

Phillip Banks climbed the stairs and stopped a few steps below Charlie. "Just what are you both doing? Planning to defile my home as you've done your-"

Charlie internally cringed at the elder Banks' words while Adam interrupted. "I've defiled nothing. It's you that's a prejudice moron." He bit. Silently, Charlie cheered him on.

"Why you ungrateful little brat." Phillip scoffed. "Here, I've given you everything and you've chosen to run around with a little," he glared while looking Charlie up and down, "two-bit street rat. You know he's only with you for money."

Adam crossed his arms, his impatience starting to show. "So, Dad," he drew out the word, "is this really about the fact that I'm gay or is it just because I've chosen Charlie? Would you be throwing a party for me if it was Larson?"

Phillip scowled and quickly walked up the few steps to be level with his son. He raised his hand across his body, ready to backhand Adam across the face. His eyes lit sickeningly while staring at his son before he angled his body down towards Charlie. "Maybe you wouldn't be so high and mighty if your '_angel of a boyfriend_' took your punishment." He mocked, his hand swinging down across Charlie's face.

Charlie stumbled backward and down a few steps before catching himself against the banister. He turned cold eyes filled with pain towards the older man. He ground his teeth together, keeping any sound he wanted to make involuntarily inside.

Adam watched in horror as his father hit Charlie. As the older man began to close the gap between them, Adam grabbed at his shoulder. "How dare you touch him?" He shrieked. Gradually, from the other rooms in the house, he could see his family begin to gather at the bottom of the staircase. Adam could see Matt's and his mom's small, crooked smiles, both silently cheering him on. "He's not an object you can use against me. He's my partner, my equal; how dare you think you're above us? What," he gestured at the display of wealth around him, "you think this is going to be what makes you happy, Dad? _This_ is going to be your saving grace?"

He ground his teeth together, walking to Charlie and grabbing his hand. Together they began to climb the rest of the stairs to Adam's room. Over his shoulder, Adam threw down to his father, "I hope for your sake you realize what you're doing, before you've gone too far to fix it."

Charlie smiled at him once they reached the top of the stairs, squeezing Adam's hand that held his. He let Adam lead him towards his bedroom and followed inside. "Adam," he called, once the door was shut behind them.

Adam turned, having heard the smile in Charlie's voice. Confusion written across his face, he stared into his boyfriend's eyes.

"Thank you." Charlie said softly. Closing the small gap between them, he wrapped his arms around Adam. "I know that was tough but I am so, so proud of you."

Adam laced his arms around Charlie's waist and squeezed his boyfriend close. He let his chin rest atop Charlie's shoulder, staring off at the door behind him. "He never should have touched you. I hate that he did; that I let him."

Charlie pulled back, grabbing Adam's chin in his hand. He pulled the older boy's face to his own. "Give it up," he smiled lightly, his face beginning to swell, "there was nothing you or I could've done."

Adam let out a soft cry that resonated deep in his chest as he ran the back of his fingertips along Charlie's cheek. He looked away, clearing his throat, "come on, we gotta get ice on that soon or you'll have a lot of explaining to do with the Ducks." He half-heartedly teased.

Charlie scowled, taking Adam's bait. "You'd really leave me to think up an alibi myself?" He asked incredulously, bending down to grab Adam's duffle bag.

"You're right," he responded, opening his closet door to look for clothing he'd want. "Somehow I don't doubt that it'd wind up being the aftermath of an extravagant sex story that you'd scar them all with, ending in you telling them I was your lover. Let's not terrify our team when we tell them, alright?" He asked, dropping multiple pairs of jeans and shirts on the bed.

Charlie just laughed, unzipping the duffle and stuffing the clothing inside. "Make sure you grab as much as you want to have with you. Whatever doesn't fit in the dorms we'll leave at my mom's."

Adam sighed and stopped at his desk, his fingers toying over a peewee hockey trophy. "We can't do that, Charlie. I'm already putting your mom out by staying there over break. I couldn't ask her to 'babysit' my things."

"Nonsense." Was all he replied as he grabbed the tube of hair gel off Adam's dresser. "You could never be '_putting my mom out._' She loves you, even more so now."

Adam smiled, grabbing a few more things to pack into another of his bags. "Yeah? How so?"

"The very first thing she said to me after getting over the shock of my being gay, was that I could stand to learn more manners from you!" Charlie scoffed and Adam couldn't help but laugh.

A short while and four fully stuffed bags of varying sizes later, Adam scanned his room. He'd taken his hockey posters off the walls, most of the clothing he still liked to wear from his closet, and just about every shoe that had been stuffed under his bed. The place was mostly empty; a few books littered what had been an overflowing bookcase and there was a lone, tiny, hockey stick resting against the wall behind the closet door. He walked over to it and squatted, reaching his fingers out to play along the tape.

Charlie walked to him and knelt down behind him. He placed his hands at Adam's waist and tilted his head into the gap the other boy's face and shoulder made. He stayed silent, seeing the tears glistening in Adam's eyes.

After a watery breath, he spoke. "This was the first hockey stick my dad gave me. Matt had already been playing and I just fell in love with the game. I wanted to play _so bad_. I wanted to play for my dad." He brought his hand back and rubbed under his eyes. "That's all gone now."

Charlie sighed. "It doesn't have to be, Adam. He's still your dad. Maybe he'll come around."

Adam scoffed. "I wouldn't take him back after he hit you."

Charlie bit his lip, trying to hide his smile. "I know. I love you all the more for that. But I wouldn't want that."

Adam turned questioning eyes to Charlie, still squatting in front of him.

"You deserve to have your father in your life, Adam. I don't want to take that away from you for anything. If he apologized, I'd want you to let him back in. Don't make yourself miserable for my sake."

Adam sighed and leaned forward to rest his forehead against Charlie's. "Let's cross that bridge if it ever comes up. Right now," he pulled back and stood, reaching his left hand down to Charlie, "I want to get you home."

Charlie smiled, seeing the sparkle in Adam's eye. He pulled himself up with Adam's hand and moved to grab the bags. He criss-crossed the two large duffles over his head, letting them rest against his back, and grabbed the smaller bag with his right hand.

Adam just rolled his eyes at Charlie, knowing why he was grabbing so many bags. He slung the backpack over his left shoulder and hooked his hand in the strap, playfully grumbling under his breath as he walked to the door. "He-man show off. Can't let a guy carry more than one bag..."

He peered out his bedroom door before softly making his way to the stairs. He knew there was a chance they'd run into his dad again and tried to prepare himself as much as he could. He listened to Charlie's steady breathing behind him that was more like a huff from carrying so much weight.

Adam breathed a small sigh of relief as they hit the bottom step. From the corner of the room near the kitchen he saw a flurry of hair and braced himself for more of his father's fury. Instead, he was engulfed in warm, soft, motherly arms, that were pulling him down.

"I don't know how this escalated so much, my son, but I want you to stay here. Please, ignore your father and stay here for me." She whispered hurriedly into his ear.

"I," he blanched as he wrapped the petite woman in his arms. "Mom, I want to, but not with dad acting the way he is. I know this is out of nowhere, but I'm not here while I'm in school anyway; he has no chance to try and get used to me and he doesn't seem to want to either." He pulled back before ducking close again to kiss her cheek. "You know I love you, Mom, and if he changes his mindset, I'll come back..." He cast his eyes towards Charlie who was pretending to mind his own business.

Was Adam jumping the gun, packing his stuff to move out? Probably, he reasoned; most likely. But he couldn't fault himself for having jumped at the opportunity to live full-time with the boy he loved. Frankly, he thought, as he leaned down to hug his mother again, he'd probably even helped create the situation so that he could. Brushing that thought off his shoulder he pulled away from his mother, walking to the front door with Charlie on his heels.

"Keep in touch, bro. You've got my dorm number." He heard Matt call from the doorway to the family room. He smiled at him as he reached his left hand towards the door, nodding in acknowledgment.

...

The rest of the break had been spent in multiple wonderful cocoons Charlie and Adam had managed to create for themselves. They spent dinner laughing with Charlie's mother and dessert blissfully alone in Charlie's room. If they had made too much noise, Casey made no mention, and they carried on their break happier then they'd been in a while.

After waking up in Charlie's arms for the fourth straight day - they didn't share a bed all to often in the cramped dorm rooms they'd been given -Adam couldn't help but feel that his world was finally falling into place. Until he looked at the clock. Groaning, he realized he'd woken up about ten minutes before the alarm was due to get them both up to head back to school. Those last few minutes of sleep were always the most precious to Adam and he rolled over, scooting further into Charlie's side and burying his head.

Waking up softly from his sleep, Charlie smiled and pulled Adam closer. "There a reason you're groaning?" He groggily asked with his eyes still closed.

"School." Adam mumbled into Charlie's side.

He laughed and shifted and Adam groaned again as Charlie sat up. "Come on, time to head back to reality."

Adam smiled as he looked up at Charlie stretching his arms over his head amidst a yawn. "Too bad, I was just getting used to sleeping in." He slowly rolled up, careful not to use his right wrist to brace himself. "You've never been so cheerful on a Monday morning before."

Charlie just smiled and shrugged. "Never had so much to be cheerful for on a Monday before." He said, his tongue getting tied in his words.

Laughing at his boyfriend, Adam climbed out of bed. He stretched his arms above his head and Charlie had to bite his lip as a sliver of skin was exposed beneath his tee. Adam's eyes sparkled at Charlie in the dim morning light and Charlie felt his heart skip a beat in his chest.

He smiled up at him from the bed and his eyes sparkled in kind. And, in that moment, Charlie realized Adam was all the assurance he'd ever need.


End file.
